


Sweet Sixteen

by zjofierose



Series: Zjo's zine fics [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adoption, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fantasizing, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Masturbation, Parenthood, Reminiscing, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: My NSFW fic for the Intertwined Zine!





	Sweet Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> There is semi-explicit discussion of consensual underage sex between teenagers - if this is something that bothers you, please do not read this fic.

“ _ God _ ,” Shiro grumbles as he shamelessly buries his face in the pillow. 

Keith climbs into bed next to him, flicking off the bedside light and plunging the room into semi-darkness. 

“What is it?” Keith’s tone is amused. “Still can’t believe she picked the cantaloupe dress even though it clashes with her skin tone?”

Shiro snorts into the pillowcase. “Fashion is all about the unexpected combinations, Keith, you know that.”

Keith’s voice is as dry as the desert and twice as barren. “Do I?” 

“You’ve stared at as many articles about picking the perfect prom dress as I have, sweetheart.”

“Mm,” Keith drapes himself across Shiro’s back, a warm and familiar weight that’s welcome even in the rising heat of late spring. “Doesn’t mean I’ve retained any of it.”

“Point,” Shiro says, going limp beneath him, and sighs again.

Keith nudges him with a knee in the side. “C’mon, babe. What’s eating you?”

“She’s sixteen,” Shiro groans, and Keith can’t help but laugh. “She’s sixteen, and she’s got a date to prom that she  _ like _ likes, and…”

“...and?”

Shiro mumbles something into the pillow, and Keith splits his attention between stroking soothingly down Shiro’s bare back and biting his lip so he doesn’t snicker. 

“And I’m not ready for our baby girl to be having sex!” Shiro presses his upper body away from the mattress and glares at his husband as Keith gives in to his laughter and falls over onto the bed. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, baby, it is a little bit,” Keith answers, curling up against Shiro’s body as Shiro lowers himself back down to the sheets. 

“She’s still just a kid,” Shiro groans, and Keith tangles their fingers together, bringing them to his mouth to kiss Shiro’s knuckles one by one.

“She’s not just a kid, babe. She’s a smart, independent, self-possessed young woman who knows what she likes, and what she doesn’t like, and doesn’t let anyone push her around.” He pats Shiro’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m confident that whether she has sex or not will be her choice, and that if she does, she knows how to do it safely.”

Shiro groans again. “We haven’t even given her The Talk.”

“We don’t need to,” Keith shrugs. “She knows everything. We’ve never been anything but open with her about what sex is, and how it works, and the importance of pleasure and consent in a sexual relationship. And I know mom’s given her a thorough run-down of the Galra female reproductive system years back.” 

“But…”

“No buts, Shiro.” Keith’s voice is firm. “We’ve equipped her as well as we can to make good choices, and we’ll be here for her if something goes wrong. We can’t baby her, and if we treat her like we don’t trust her, she’ll learn to not trust us.”

“I hate that you’re right about this,” Shiro grumbles, and Keith exhales softly before pressing a kiss to Shiro’s shoulder. 

“If you’re this upset about it, Shiro,” Keith says gently, “you should talk to her. Tell her that you respect that she’s growing up, but that you love her and you’re worried about her getting hurt. She’ll hear you.”

“Can I just threaten her date instead?”

“No.” Keith flicks Shiro’s ear. “We know Kevon. He’s a nice, age-appropriate, well-mannered date, and pretending that it’s his responsibility to keep her safe demeans her agency and intelligence. You know this.”

“Do I?”

“Do you want me to ask Pidge to remind you? Or my mother?”

Shiro shudders. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“C’mon, Shiro.” Keith tucks his face into Shiro’s armpit and closes his eyes. “Don’t you remember what it was like when you were sixteen?”

“No,” Shiro grumbles, “I’m too old. I have dementia. My adolescence is lost to the mists of time.”

Keith digs a finger into Shiro’s ribs and he squawks indignantly, rolling over to trap Keith beneath his firm bulk before he continues. “I was a model teenager. I obeyed my parents’ every word. I did all my homework, and I went to bed at nine pm every night, and I never  _ once _ looked lustfully at another boy.”

“Mmmhm,” Keith snorts from beneath Shiro’s bulk, “this from the guy who taught me to jump hoverbikes off cliffs. And how old were you when you gave your first blowjob?”

There’s a long pause. 

“...sixteen.”

Keith crows in delight and flips Shiro onto the mattress. 

“I knew it! You ninny.”

“What about you?” Shiro grips at Keith’s hips as Keith settles over him, his long braid falling over his shoulder. “You weren’t having sex at sixteen.”

“No,” Keith shrugs, “But I could have if I’d wanted to. Plenty of Garrison cadets got off with each other all the time, you know that. And before, in the home…” he trails off, and Shiro tries not to dig his thumbs possessively into Keith’s hips. Twenty years married and longer together before, and he still wants to protect Keith from the memories of his childhood. He forces his mind back to the topic at hand.

“I didn’t join up until after I finished high school,” Shiro says, “what would I know about what junior cadets get up to or not?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “We all used the same showers. Pretty sure you’d have to be blind and deaf not to have noticed something at some point.”

Shiro tugs Keith against him more firmly, smiling up at the way the ambient light from the window illuminates the planes of his face. 

“I was an innocent. A pure, untouched soul, untainted by the ways of the world.”

Keith laughs, and it’s a sound Shiro will always treasure. 

“Okay, Golden Boy.” Keith’s eyes flash as he leans forward, bracing his hands on Shiro’s chest. “What if we’d been sixteen together?”

Oh, Shiro thinks,  _ oh _ . That’s a thought. He tries to picture it - small, ferocious Keith with his mop of black hair, his genius, and his penchant for fighting, dropped into the middle of Shiro’s upscale STEM-magnet high school. There’s no question at all in Shiro’s mind what his response would have been.

“I’d’ve been  _ riveted _ ,” Shiro says, and Keith ducks his head in immediate embarrassment. 

“C’mon, Shiro,” Keith says softly, “you knew me when I was sixteen. I was a mess.”

“You were  wonderful ,” Shiro corrects gently, letting his imagination wander. “You would’ve knocked me off the top of every single pedestal I cared about, and I would’ve been completely gone for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Keith’s still clearly incredulous, “What would you have done about it?”

“God,” Shiro laughs, “I had no game, baby. I might not have done  _ anything _ about it. Not for a long time, at least. I’d’ve mooned over you from afar, told my sisters how pretty you were, and been way too scared to ask you to the dances.”

“What if,” Keith says, looking up at Shiro from under his bangs, and Shiro catches his breath at the sight of him. It’s all too easy here in the dark for the years to slide away from Keith’s face, for his eyes to be the same large, dark galaxies they were when Shiro first saw him nearly thirty years ago. “What if we were both sixteen, and I wanted you to?

“Well,” Shiro starts, watching as one of Keith’s hands slides up the planes of Shiro’s abdomen. “If I really thought you were interested,  _ maybe  _ I’d work up the courage to ask you out.”

“How would you do it?” Keith’s hand is light, just tracing the outlines of Shiro’s musculature, his voice gone lighter and just slightly coy.

Shiro clears his throat. “I’d try to think of what you might like, first.” He lets Keith’s fingers reach his sternum, sliding his hands down from Keith’s hips to his knees, his thumbs toying with the delicate skin on the inside of the bend of Keith’s legs. “I’d want to impress you, but I wouldn’t want to go too overboard for a first date, so I’d probably save the planetarium for maybe the third time you let me take you out.”

“So confident,” Keith murmurs, his voice warm, and Shiro lets his grip slip an inch higher on the warm skin beneath his palms. 

“With you? I’d want to play the long game,” Shiro smiles, slow and pleased. “I’d want to have a plan to keep you interested. Can’t use all my good material at once.”

“I thought you said you had no game,” Keith counters, leaning back in a way that rests his ass frustratingly close to, but not on top of, Shiro’s dick. 

“Oh, I definitely didn’t,” Shiro brings his knees up, feet flat on the bed, and Keith leans back against Shiro’s legs, letting the moonlight enlighten his miles of bare skin. “But for you, I’d try to get some.”

Keith chuckles. “Ok, Casanova. So we’re not going to the planetarium. What  _ is _ your plan? You haven’t even asked me out yet.”

“I’d ask you at the end of a day, maybe on a Friday, right before you leave.”

“Clever,” Keith admits, “that way if I turn you down, we don’t have to see each other for a few days.”

“Right.” Shiro’s hands are halfway up Keith’s legs, and he’ll never get over how, even with Keith’s adult size being twice what it was when they met, Shiro’s hands still wrap nearly halfway around Keith’s thighs. “And when you say yes…”

“I’m saying yes,” Keith’s voice is low, and full of promise, and Shiro licks his lips. 

“...when you say yes, we’ve got a week of anticipation.”

Keith stretches, pulling his arms over his head, and Shiro’s mouth goes dry. Keith’s shirtless, and his boxer-briefs leave little to the imagination, meaning that the twist he gives with his hips as he arches his back is clearly designed to egg Shiro on. Not that Shiro needs it, he thinks ruefully - as always with Keith, Shiro is helpless before him. 

“I’d come to pick you up…”

“At my house, where I live with my mom and my dog,” Keith interrupts, and Shiro’s heart melts as he nods in agreement.

“I’m terrified of your mom, so I’ve brought her flowers.”

Keith snorts. “She would actually love that.”

“I know,” Shiro smiles smugly, “and I even brought her favorites.”

“Slick,” Keith laughs, “alright, color me impressed.”

“Yeah?” Shiro lets his hands curl under the backs of Keith’s thighs as his thumbs slip under the edge of the black fabric of Keith’s underwear. “Am I winning you over?”

“Mmm, I don’t know yet. What else do you have planned?”

“Well, first we’d go to dinner. Somewhere good, but not too pricey, that’s too awkward for a first date. Maybe a diner, or for pizza.” Shiro balls his fists in the fabric under his fingers and starts to pull, just a little.

“What do we talk about?”

“ _ Everything _ ,” Shiro says, and can’t help the sincerity that echoes in his voice.That had always been the thing with the two of them, from the moment they met - even when he was with Adam, well before he ever thought of Keith as any kind of romantic interest, they were always able to talk to each other like no one else could, understand each other in ways that no other human ever had. 

Keith leans down and kisses him, long and warm and deep, a reassurance and a reminder of everything they are together and everything that they can be, a promise of everything that’s yet to come. Shiro loses himself in the movement of their mouths, the give and take of lips and tongue, the hushed breaths and careful hands that wrap around his face and stroke down his neck. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Keith whispers, and sits back again, laughing as he discovers that his underwear have mysteriously been dragged below the curve of his ass as he had tipped forward. “Smooth,” he says, and frees himself from them completely, chucking them across the room as Shiro waggles his eyebrows at him. 

“Anything for you,” Shiro answers, reaching up to run his hands from Keith’s collarbones to his waist, reveling in the feel of smooth, warm skin beneath his fingers. “Wanna go see a movie with me?”

“Sure,” Keith scoots back on Shiro’s thighs and reaches down to pull him upright. “What are we watching?”

“Mmm,” Shiro holds Keith by the hips and lifts him just enough that Shiro can cross his legs beneath Keith’s bare posterior, settling Keith back down into the cradle of his lap with his long legs spread around Shiro’s hips and his half-hard cock pressed up against Shiro’s belly. “I figure I’ll take you to whatever sci-fi movie’s playing. If it’s a B-movie, even better.

“You don’t want me to like it?” Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and shifts his hips. His voice is very slightly breathless, and Shiro smiles as he drags his human hand down Keith’s well-muscled back.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed about missing it when we spend the whole movie making out in the back row,” Shiro whispers into Keith’s ear, and chuckles as Keith grasps instinctively at the back of Shiro’s hair. 

“Moving kinda fast for a first date, aren’t you?”

“Only if you want to, baby.” Shiro gently loosens Keith’s arms from around his neck and guides his body backward in a deep bend until Keith’s head and shoulders are resting on the mattress and his dark, beautiful eyes are blinking up at Shiro. 

“Yeah?” Keith’s voice is husky as he locks his heels in the small of Shiro’s back. “What would you want to do with me?”

“Anything you’d let me get away with,” Shiro answers, and Keith grins wolfishly. “Here, lift up for a sec.” 

Keith obediently unlocks his legs and drops them to the mattress, arching up in a half-bridge as Shiro yanks off his own black briefs and tosses them on the floor before crossing his legs again and guiding Keith’s body back down to rest against his own. The thickness of his erection is pressed against Keith’s tailbone, and the warmth of the skin-to-skin contact is blissful. 

“Well,” Keith says, watching as Shiro reaches up to drag his full palm slowly down Keith’s body from chin to hip-crease, “I’d never put out on the first date.”

Shiro chuckles, and follows the first hand with the second, mirroring the slow pull down the other side of Keith’s body, making sure to catch Keith’s hardening nipple on the way. 

“But,” Keith continues, “say we’d been together for a little bit.”

“Made out in the backs of several movies?” Shiro smiles as Keith sighs happily and leans into his touch while Shiro pulls his hands slowly and firmly down Keith’s sides. Keith works his fingers into his own hair and stretches out long, tipping his head back and raising his arms until he looks like a centerfold before settling his gaze back on Shiro’s face.

“Yeah,” Keith says, voice soft. “You’re the kindest, sweetest, most handsome boy I know, and you take me out to dinner and the movies. We talk about everything, and you kiss me just right.”

Shiro bends to press his lips to Keith’s navel, rubbing his five-o’clock shadow across the curve of Keith’s stomach just to feel him shiver. 

“I took you to the winter formal,” he says, and Keith hums in agreement, “and we slow danced to every song. I pinned a chrysanthemum to your jacket, and I held you in my arms like you were the most precious thing I’d ever touched.”

“I put my arms around your waist and laid my head on your shoulder,” Keith whispers as Shiro runs his hands from the warm fold of Keith’s hip joint out to his knees, pressing down gently until his legs are wide open, then bends down to take the head of Keith’s cock in his mouth. “And I knew then that I wanted to be as close to you as I could,” Keith says in a confidential whisper, and Shiro knows, he  _ knows _ that they’re middle-aged and married, but right now all he can see is his beautiful, shy, boyfriend spread out in front of him and trusting him with his heart. 

“I love you, baby,” he says, and Keith smiles softly up at him, “I just wanna make this good for you.”

“I know, Takashi,” Keith’s careful, cautious voice is completely at odds with the obscene spread of his legs around Shiro’s hips, but it’s a heady combination, “I trust you.”

“Here,” Shiro says, reaching up to take one of Keith’s hands in his own. He presses a kiss to the palm and each finger before guiding it down to wrap around Keith’s own cock. “Touch yourself. It’ll help you relax.”

“Okay,” Keith breathes out, his cheeks pink for all the world like he’s untouched and embarrassed, his movements slow and halting. “I can do that.”

Shiro fishes the lube out from the headboard with his free hand as he uses the other to curl around Keith’s face and stroke across his cheekbone. “Have you ever done this before?” He asks gently. 

Keith bites his lip and shakes his head, his eyes holding Shiro’s. “Not… not with anyone else,” he answers, and Shiro can’t help the groan that falls from him at the image of a young Keith taking himself in hand, biting his lip and closing his eyes as he slips a finger home just to see what it’s like. 

“I’ll go slow,” Shiro promises, tipping Keith’s hips up with a hand to the small of his back, “and you tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable, okay?”

Keith nods, and Shiro presses a kiss to the inside of his knee, then slicks up a finger, pausing to let the lube come to body temperature on his hand before he strokes it carefully around Keith’s entrance. Keith’s grip stutters in its rhythm on his dick, and Shiro wraps his own free hand around it, guiding Keith back into a slow drag. 

“I’m ready,” Keith murmurs, and Shiro nods, letting the tip of his finger breach Keith’s body just slightly before pulling it back out again, teasing his rim with small, careful motions that make the color rise in Keith’s neck and chest.

“Oh, Shiro,” Keith gasps, and Shiro lets his finger slip a little further in, pushing up as he pulls it smoothly back out. 

“You doing okay, baby?” Shiro asks, letting Keith intertwine their fingers as he jacks himself slow and steady.

“Yeah,” Keith’s voice is thin and tight, but he nods enthusiastically. “Maybe… maybe another?”

“Only if you’re sure,” Shiro cautions, “we can stop here for tonight, if that’s what you want.”

“No,” Keith shakes his head determinedly, “I want to.” He shifts restlessly in Shiro’s lap, and Shiro pulls his finger slowly out to add more lube even as Keith whines faintly at the loss.

“I’ve got you,” Shiro says, and leans in to kiss over Keith’s thigh, moving his mouth from Keith’s knee slowly inward until he can bite at the meat of it, earning a smack on the head from Keith that leaves them both laughing. “Ready?” 

“Yes,” Keith drops back to the mattress, flinging an arm across his face as Shiro presses two fingers in slow and smooth. 

“Let me see you?” Shiro’s voice is soft, coaxing, and he untangles his fingers from Keith’s to reach up and pull gently at his elbow. Keith lets his arm fall even as his mouth opens at the motion of Shiro’s fingers within him, his cheeks red and eyes shining. “ _ God _ , baby, you’re so beautiful. Can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”

Keith ducks his head shyly and Shiro tips forward to rest his cheek on Keith’s belly, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it all. He can feel his head rising and lowering as Keith breathes, can feel Keith’s hand still working himself beneath the pressure of Shiro’s chest.

“Think you can take one more?”

It’s pure performance, Keith can take three and more easily, but Shiro feels the tremble of Keith’s body beneath him as he takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, “yeah, do it, Shiro.”

Shiro mouths kisses into Keith’s belly as he pushes into him, his own cock throbbing where it’s pressed down by the weight of Keith’s pelvis. Shiro presses his fingers carefully in and up, and Keith’s back arches like a dream, his breath punching out of him in a gasp of surprise.

“Shiro,” he whimpers, “what…”

“Still feel good, baby?” Shiro murmurs into Keith’s skin, “Want me to get you off like this?”

Keith shifts urgently in Shiro’s lap and Shiro relents, settling his hand back into a slow, dirty drag as Keith whines deep in his throat. 

“Shiro,” he pleads, reaching out to wind his fingers into Shiro’s hair and tug, “I want you in me. Please.”

“Yeah?” Shiro croaks, inhaling deep to calm himself with the grounding scent of Keith’s skin. “You sure? I don’t mind if you want to wait.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Keith says, and Shiro’s helpless to resist him in this, as in any, moment.

“Okay, baby, okay. I’ve got you. Let me just…” he hooks an arm under Keith’s hips and lifts, watching with awe as Keith’s backbend deepens until Shiro can guide himself into to Keith’s body with an easy hand. 

“Breathe out for me, sweetheart,” he says, and Keith gives a shuddery exhale as he slides perfectly down on Shiro’s cock until their bodies are flush together. The miracle of it, Shiro thinks, is that as many times as they’ve done this, it always feels like the first time again, always feels like a gift to be welcomed into Keith’s body, held and comforted and desired. He rubs a gentle hand across Keith’s belly, pressing in small circles as he feels Keith adjust. 

“I love you,” he says, and Keith catches his eyes and smiles deep and strong. Shiro chews his lip and holds Keith’s gaze as he starts to rock up, just a little, pulling Keith’s body subtly back and forth on the sheets as he goes. 

“God,  _ Shiro _ ,” Keith whispers, reaching blindly out for him. Shiro catches his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing down his fingers, filling Keith’s palm with his mouth as his shifts his hips back and forth, back and forth, letting the pressure build between them inexorably. “How are you so good?”

Shiro smiles into Keith’s wrist and thrusts more firmly, earning himself a deep groan and a restless wriggle as Keith tries and fails to brace himself against Shiro’s strengthening rhythm. 

“What do you want, baby?” Shiro buries his face in Keith’s hand as he slides his grip down to clutch at Keith’s hips. “Tell me.”

“Just…” Keith’s voice is ragged, “God, I’m close. Don’t stop, Shiro. Don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Shiro vows, guiding Keith’s hand back down from his face to wrap around Keith’s cock, “I promise. Here, take what you need.”

Keith’s head tosses back, teeth sinking into his lip and hand squeezing tight around himself as he arches into a perfect curve and comes all over himself, shuddering with aftershocks as Shiro keeps his rhythm steady, back and forth, back and forth. 

“Fuck,” Keith mutters, sighing deeply and letting his back fall even as he gives himself a few last strokes, “Shiro…”

“Yeah?” Shiro can hear that his own voice is tight, but he refuses to speed up, wants the freight-train kind of release that comes from clinging to the steady inevitability of his established stroke until his body gives in.

“What do you need?” Keith asks, his voice soft, one hand coming up to cup Shiro’s cheek. “How can I help?”

“Just,” Shiro lets his eyes fall shut and his head fall forward, “hold me?”

“Of course,” Keith leans up enough to wind an arm around Shiro’s head and press it down to his chest, bowing the small of his back as Shiro keeps rolling his hips in and out. His other hand covers Shiro’s face, stroking across his skin and digging into his scalp as Shiro chokes on an inhale and comes hard, shaking into Keith’s body for a long moment as Keith holds him close and murmurs sweet nothings into his ear. 

“God,” Shiro finally says when he’s caught his breath. He’s got his face smeared in Keith’s spunk and a crick in his lower back that’s sure to haunt him for days, but he wouldn’t change a thing if you paid him. Keith’s draped limp and fucked out across his legs, and he laughs lazily as Shiro pries himself upward. 

Shiro lifts Keith’s weight enough to unfold his legs and pull out before letting himself belly flop forward with enough momentum to make Keith bounce and laugh before he rolls over to wrap himself around Shiro’s form.

The room is filled with the sound of their breathing evening out, the occasional car passing in the night. Shiro shuffles his face over onto Keith’s shoulder and sighs as Keith begins to pet his hair. 

“Feel better?” Keith’s tone is wry, and Shiro smiles against his skin.

“Yeah,” he admits, but pauses for a moment. “Keith, do you… do you wish it had been like that?”

“Like what?” Keith asks, his fingers stroking along Shiro’s temple, his jawline, his mouth. 

“Like… when we were both younger. Innocent.” Shiro pauses. “Undamaged.”

“No,” Keith’s response is immediate, and Shiro tips his head back to look at him. “No,” Keith says more softly. “I would never change anything about us, Shiro. What we have, what we got… it was earned. It was meaningful.” He blows out a breath, thinking, and Shiro waits, listening to the steady thump of Keith’s heart beneath his ear. “I’m sure that no matter how we met and ended up together, I would have loved you as much as I do now,” Keith says, and Shiro smiles up at him. “But… without what we’ve been through, I wouldn’t have known how much that meant. Does that make sense?”

Shiro reaches out to smooth the frown from Keith’s forehead, letting his touch linger. “Yeah, baby, it does.”

“I love the idea of it,” Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and rubs his face into the top of Shiro’s head. “I love  _ every  _ idea of how we might have gotten together, how we might have been, because I love every idea of you. But I wouldn’t trade what we have, who we are, for anything.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, “c’mere,” and pulls Keith up tight against him, listening in the quiet for their breathing to line up. “Every time,” he whispers, “I dream of you.”

Keith presses a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“I’ll always come for you, Shiro,” he says, and Shiro smiles, knowing Keith’s next words are as engraved on his heart as surely as they are on the metal of their rings, “as many times as it takes.”   
  
  
  
  



End file.
